One More Wake-Up: A Memoir of a Year Spent in Vietnam

One More Wake-up

A Memoir of a Year Spent in Vietnam

by

CHARLES J SHARPS

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© Copyright 2007 Charles J Sharps.

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ISBN: 978-1-4251-5276-5 (soft cover)

ISBN: 978-1-4269-9234-6 (ebook)

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Contents

DEDICATION

FOREWORD

1 A SHORT HISTORY OF THE 173rd AIRBORNE BRIGADE (SEPARATE)

2 FIRST JUMP

3 ARRIVAL

4 ALONE

5 A CHOSEN FEW

6 AIRBORNE PRIDE

7 DEATH NEVER CHANGES

8 FIRST DAYS

9 KENNEDY IS DEAD

10 MORE RANDOM THOUGHTS.

11 ONE TINY STEP

12 NAPALM.

13 REMF’s

14 SILVER RAIN

15 STILL MORE MEMORIES OF NAM

16 THE BAMBOO THICKET

17 ARC LIGHT

18 THE CRASH

19 THE WATCH

20 GARRY MICHAEL FORKUM

21 THE LAST REMNANTS OF MY BOYHOOD

22 THE TREE

23 A WEDDING DAY

24 REST AND RECREATION (R&R)

25 WELCOME HOME

26 COME FOLLOW ME

27 MYTHS ABOUT THE VIETNAM WAR

28 PERCEPTIONS

29 RANDOM THOUGHTS

30 REFLECTIONS WHILE AT THE TRAVELING WALL

31 FROM THE OTHER SIDE.

32 REFLECTIONS

33 SHAKE N’ BAKES ARE SERGEANTS TOO

34 THREE BROTHERS

35 I REMEMBER

36 A DAY N THE BRUSH

37 THE PHOTO

38 VIETNAM WAR FACTS

FOLLOW ME

UNITED STATES ARMY INFANTRY SCHOOL FT. BENNING, GA

173D AIRBORNE BRIGADE AWARDS-VIETNAM

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

DEDICATION

THIS BOOK COULD be considered as a public apology to my wife Sue and sons John and Joe who have supported me these many years dealing with my unexplained bursts of anger, fear, and my haunting need to run outside to watch helicopters fly by or to bolt a crowded mall, without ever hearing me say, I am sorry, for their lifetime of disruption.

And to my fellow Nam veterans who served in our longest war. Though vilified and spurned by our countrymen, I believe we honored our nation and ourselves. And to those alive and dead whose struggles, insights, hope, memories, and past dreams fueled these pages.

And to those I know who carry similar memories: some they are willing to share, others they can’t, afraid of what sharing may do.

FOREWORD

IN THE SUMMER of 1992, while sitting on my deck at the cabin overlooking the Umpqua River, in Wells Creek, Oregon, my thoughts started sparking like the red and green tracers I will forever see, and to my horror I realized I missed the excitement and adrenalin rushes of my war in Vietnam. Not wanting to admit that my memories were calling, I shrugged it off as a mid-life crisis.

It was shortly after returning from Nam, that I realized I was not going to be able to forget what I had seen or experienced, yet for years, I was mute, my memories a turmoil of lost buddies, spilled blood, searing sun, driving rain, boredom, exhilaration, fear, panic, anger and the ever present whop whopping of helicopters, echoing in my mind.

Vietnam was a time in my life that I now feel the need to share. Maybe this compilation of memories will help quell my desire for the excitement and adrenalin rushes of war, for the urge to seek retribution; maybe sharing these stories will help break the silence I have endured for so long.

Sharing hoping I can explain some things many of you may find odd. Why for instance does the sound of helicopters flying by make me think of Nam, combat assaults, mail from home or, better yet, care packages? Why does this sound continue to haunt me, echoing in my mind long after they have flown by? A sound so powerful that today, thirty-eight years later, I will stop whatever I’m doing, go outside to look, all the while wondering-and knowing better, does it mean another assault?

Will it be hot, and, if it is, who is going to be wounded or killed?

Why does a mall crowded with people cause me to sweat and fell shaky and create in my mind, what I have always jokingly shared with my family as, ‘the one hand grenade will get us all syndrome. A feeling so strong, I have to leave, causing unexplained disruptions to many family excursions. Unexplained, because those listening hear, but do not understand.

Why is it, after smelling some types of rotting vegetation that I flash to Nam and then draw away from my family, feeling malicious, hostile and very aggressive? Why is it that when I am crossed, verbally or otherwise, I go for the jugular, knowing I have to win at all costs?

Why is it, I jump and cringe ready to hit the dirt, when the starting gun goes off at a track meet and then get very angry when people laugh at the jumpy old man?

I invite you to take a seat and travel with me down the lanes of my memory where I hope I can answer all the questions I just asked.

Please remember these stories are as I remembered them. Time has a way of enhancing or restricting some things and if I have not portrayed incidents as you remembered them, then maybe you, too, ought to consider writing to provide your perspective or your story of the war in Nam.

THIS MEMOIR is based on true incidents. Names (except public figures) have been changed and characters described are composites of those I soldiered with in order to avoid renewing grief for lost loved ones.

1 

A SHORT HISTORY OF THE 173rd AIRBORNE BRIGADE (SEPARATE)

SOME OF THE first questions asked by Nam Veterans when meeting for the first time is, "What outfit did you serve with? What was your MOS (Military occupation specialty?) When were you over there? Where were you stationed?

What they are attempting to do is categorize in their minds the difficulty or risk element they might have had while serving in Vietnam.

For instance, if I am told, I was a sailor loading ordinance aboard aircraft while stationed on a carrier off the coast of Vietnam, I immediately relegate this veteran’s status to a much lower place in my mind. Sure, he might be a Vietnam veteran, but he always had hot meals, clean sheets, and showers to look forward to on a daily basis. He did his part but his risk element was extremely low.

However, if I am told, I was with the 19¹st Light Infantry as a LRRP (Long Range Reconnaissance Patrol) I stand up and take notice, for his risk element was extremely high.

Pencil pushers, company clerks, Saigon warriors, and perimeter guards to mention but a few different MOS’s can all be categorized by risk. A perimeter guard faced greater danger than a Saigon warrior, etc.

You must remember for every man who actually fought in Nam that there were ten in the rear to support him. It was elements of these ten who were the dopers, pot smokers, and heroin freaks in

Nam, not the line soldier who risked his life every day for a year while humping the boonies searching for the enemy.

When I am asked about my veteran status, I proudly say, "I served with the 173rd Airborne as an infantry platoon sergeant.

If the questioner is a veteran, he will know before we are through talking, I was there in 1968-69 and operated in II Corps from the South China Sea near Tuy Hoa, to Bam Me Thout on the Cambodian border in the Central Highlands.

The outfit, in which I so proudly served, the 173rd, was a reaction force, a bastard brigade, meaning it was not part of some higher regiment, which operated throughout the length and width of Vietnam for many years.

As a single brigade it was our mission to go in first as scouts looking for the enemy or to help some other outfit who had gotten in over their heads.

In my year in Nam, I traveled extensively throughout II Corps with Lima platoon, D (Dog) Company, 4th battalion, 503rd Infantry completing 87 combat air assaults.

Born during the Army’s development of the brushfire war concept, the brigade was organized by then Brigadier General Ellis Williamson to become an elite, independent airborne unit called the Pacific Area Fire Brigade.

Thousands of parachute jumps were conducted in a dozen Asian countries including Japan, the Philippines and Taiwan. The Chinese paratroopers dubbed the 173rd Tieh Bing or Sky Soldiers. Given this intensive preparation, the 173rd was the logical first choice as the vanguard of the Army’s deployment into Vietnam in May 1965.

Their first mission was to secure the Bien Hoa Airfield. Twenty-four hours after landing, the brigade had moved into the surrounding jungle, destroying Viet Cong firing sites and securing a perimeter large enough that no enemy fire would strike the airfield during the year they were there.

Combat operation after combat operation followed; War Zone D, the Iron Triangle, Pleiku, and Kontum are some of the best known. The 173rd quickly demonstrated its superb training and fitness to fight in a jungle environment.

By early 1966 the 173rd had moved to the Plain of Reeds in the Mekong Delta. Within weeks, Brigade elements and their Australian counterparts had destroyed the headquarters of Viet Cong Military Region 4.

The Brigade then moved back to III Corps and War Zone D, and began a series of search and destroy operations against main force Viet Cong units. During Operation Silver City, conducted near the Song Be River, the Sky Soldiers allegedly destroyed the 501st Viet Cong Battalion.

Enemy logistical stores and tax collectors became the targets of several battalion size operations during the remainder of 1966 in the provinces around Saigon. The Sky Soldiers also provided initial security for the newly arrived 4th Infantry Division and later for the 199th Light Infantry Brigade during their arrival in the combat zone.

Nineteen sixty-seven was a bloody year for the troopers of the 173rd. They fought the battles of the Iron Triangle, conducted the only major combat jump in Vietnam (2nd battalion) during Operation Junction City, captured the Viet Cong’s main psychological operations headquarters (4th battalion), destroyed the main VC elements in Tay Ninh, and blocked North Vietnamese Army incursions at Dak To.

Dak To included some of the most brutal fighting of the war, ending in the capture of Hill 875 on Thanksgiving Day, by the 2nd and 4th battalions. During this bloody campaign, the 173rd troopers succeeded in forcing an NVA division to retreat back across the Cambodian border and destroyed the 174th NVA Infantry Regiment that had dug in on Hill 875.

The battlefield ferocity at Dak To is measured by the 140 Purple Hearts (including 70 KIA’s), three Congressional Medals of Honor, and the Presidential Unit Citation awarded to the 173rd for this operation. After Dak To, in 1968-69 the Brigade operated largely in battalion-size formations throughout the eastern provinces to seal off the coastal villages, denying rice to the Viet Cong, kept the principle roads open, and patrolled in company sized units destroying enemy base camps.

I joined the 173rd in late March early April initially as a squad leader but soon rose to platoon sergeant /platoon leader. Some of the men in my platoon had been in the battle for Hill 875 (Dak To).

From April 1969, when I left Nam, to early 1971, the Brigade supported pacification operations by conducting small unit patrols around villages, and training South Vietnamese troops. Just before its return to the United States, the Brigade’s units conducted security operations near Northern Binh Dinh Province.

The 173rd was reassigned to Fort Campbell, Kentucky in September 1971, and its colors were furled on January 14, 1972.

The valor of my Brigade can be measured by the 1,534 names of Sky Soldiers carved in the stone of the Vietnam Veterans Memorial. During more than six years of nearly continual combat-longer than any army unit since the Revolutionary War-the 173rd Airborne Brigade earned 14 campaign ribbons and four Unit Citations, two U.S. and two Vietnamese. Its soldiers won 12 Congressional Medals of Honor, 10 of them posthumously, and over 6000 purple hearts.

As one of the soldiers who proudly served with the Brigade as a Sky Soldier, it is my intent via this memoir to keep alive the memory of its achievements and of my fallen comrades.

2 

FIRST JUMP

THERE WAS LITTLE to do within the plane but to sit on the narrow red nylon and gray aluminum seats and wonder about what the next few minutes of your life would mean.

The seating arrangement—if you could call it that, was courtesy of the US Army. Fill it up! Fill it up! Fill it up all the way to the front men, and quickly!

We crowded into the cramped airplane, an Air Force Reserve C-119, and struggled down into our seats. Our equipment was strapped and buckled tightly to us, further complicating the seating.

Sitting there and listening to the roar of the plane I felt as if my fellow travelers on my right and left were actually sitting on my seat! A sudden bounce confirmed the fact that what little exposed flesh not covered by my equipment and other gear was rested upon an aluminum brace with a bolt sticking through it.

I shouted to the man on my left to move, but was ignored because the fuselage was filled with the roaring of wind with the air rushing in through the open doors. I suffered through the rest of the ride after another bounce brought my rear to a patch of nylon seat.

On the opposite side of the aircraft were twenty others like myself and the nineteen men on my side of the plane. The forty of us looked all alike except for the different white numbers taped onto our steel helmets. There was little order to the numbers for many men had disappeared since we had all started together more than five hundred strong just a couple of weeks earlier.

Occasionally I caught a glimpse of the Georgian countryside as the aircraft banked for a turn as it maneuvered onto our course. I could see little but trees and glimpses of the sprawling Chattahoochee River. I had hoped there would not be so many trees at our drop zone.

We had been told after our crossing of the river on our final approach to the drop zone that there would be no more water but there